


Psychopomp

by toniemx



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ghosts, Minor Character Death, Mystery, Psychic Abilities, Science Fiction, Serial Killer, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toniemx/pseuds/toniemx
Summary: Somewhere along the course of history, the flight or fight response evolved; now when humans are in a situation where adrenaline is running high and the response is triggered, there's a chance they'll develop a 'Near-Death' supernatural ability, or an ND for short, that will aid them in their situation. Some are useful after the incident in question. Others, like Charlotte's, are less so - she can see dead people.Now she's been recruited by Union City Police to track down a notorious serial killer known only as Arachnid. With the help of a shapeshifter, an arsonist and more than a few ghosts, can Charlotte crack the case, or will she simply be the next victim?Charlotte’s ND was inspired by Midoriya’s  Quirk in the MHA fic Yesterday Upon The Stair by @Pitviperofdoom; there’s some differences in how Psychopomp functions, though
Kudos: 1





	Psychopomp

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Yesterday Upon The Stair](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337607) by [PitViperOfDoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitViperOfDoom/pseuds/PitViperOfDoom). 



"Good morning, everyone! Welcome to Near Death Experience Rehabilitation! My name is Mary, and I'll be your Guide throughout your journey with us here!"

The peppy greeting hung awkwardly in the air for a few moments before Mary inhaled sharply through her nose, her toothy grin dropping into a pinched expression. She drummed her neatly manicured fingers on her folder, eyes flitting around the room at the melancholy group assembled before her.

She knew the names of nearly all of them – one or two had been handled as special cases and hadn't had a yellow folder with their whole life story tossed upon her desk by a man in a pressed suit – but didn't know any of them. Not properly, not yet. She could see from the murky grey emitting off of the vast majority of the patients that they really didn't want to be there.

"Okay, so. We're going to start by introducing ourselves! Tell everyone your name, and, if you feel comfortable to do so, your ND ability. I'll start! As I said before, my name is Mary. My ND ability is Aural Empathy, which means I can tell what emotions people are feeling by looking at their auras!" Mary announced, noting with some disappointment none of the patient's auras reacted to her announcement. One of them, belonging to a young woman with dark hair, flickered much like TV static, which threw Mary for a loop for a moment before it settled back into the formless void of purple-grey it was before.

Before Mary could speak again, the uniformed man sitting next to her cleared his throat, drawing the room's attention. He smiled nervously.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Grant Martin, and as you can see, I'm a Union City police officer. My ND is Truth Perception. It's pretty much what the name implies – I can tell if someone's lying." he finished with an awkward shrug. The reveal of his ND sent a few of the patients further back in their chairs, but most seemed to relax slightly. Mary turned her attention to the person sitting beside Grant in the circle; a waif thin man with scarlet hair tied in an intricate braid. His ears were pointed slightly, giving him an almost elven appearance. When he spoke, it was gentle, almost too quiet for Mary to hear.

"I'm Dorian Du Vern. My ND is called Mythos-Shift. I can turn into different mythological creatures, but it really hurts, and it normally only happens when I'm under a lot of stress." he mumbled, fiddling with his hands.Mary distantly remembers his file. His ND kicked in when his foster father, drunk and enraged, had attacked Dorian's younger sister. He'd transformed into a unicorn and skewered the man in the middle of the living room. When he shifted back, he ran to the nearest police station and turned himself in, shaking. It occurred to the empath, not for the first time in her career as a ND Guide, that she was sat in a room with murderers, thieves and, if she recalled correctly, a terrorist. To say the fact unsettled her was an understatement.

"Aren't you the guy who shish-kebabbed his dad?" a lilted voice asked from across the room. It belonged to a well-built woman with shark like teeth and close-cropped hair. Her smile was sharp, as was her aura. It reminded Mary of a rose's stem – sleek, but with enough sharp edges to make the empath wince. Dorian flinched at the question, his ears turning a deep shade of red. "No offense meant, kid. It's not like he didn't deserve it, if I remember your court case correctly. Oh, and I'm Pepper Corsair. I can generate exothermic reactions at will. I'd say pyromancy but it's a bit more than that."

She lifted one gloved hand, creating a group of micro-fireworks that sparked different colours in her palm. The auras around the room flickered between their default bored-grey to terrified-orange to intrigued-pink. Mary cut Pepper a Look, one reserved for her younger patients, and Pepper obediently closed her fist, the fireworks abruptly coming to an end.

The introductions continued, and Mary was pleased to see that the patients seemed to be becoming more interested in the conversation. One of the group, a short man with an equally short temper named David, possessed the ability to warp light, creating illusions. Another, a bubbly teen girl with dyed pink hair, could teleport using shadows.The ND abilities were all vast and wildly different from each other. The introduction meeting was going better than Mary could have predicted, until they reached the woman with the strange flickering aura.

"You're the last one!" Mary announced cheerfully. The purple-grey of the girl flickered again, shrunk down – for a split second, it appeared to be a humanoid shape that leant into the woman. It quickly reverted back before Mary could react, and the woman sighed, fiddling idly with one of her strange, chunky bracelets.

"Charlotte Yumoto. My ND is called Psychopomp. Like the name implies, I can see and talk to ghosts."

There was a brief moment of silence before the room erupted into noise. Charlotte gulped, pressing herself against the back of the chair, holding her hands up in defence.

"I know it sounds ridiculous but trust me. I can see dead people." she said, hands still raised in pacification. Mary raised a hand to her mouth and whistled sharply. The group silenced almost immediately, and Charlotte lowered her arms with a thankful glance in Mary's direction. The counsellor took a brief look at the auras of the other members of the group, noting with interest that Pepper's had taken on a strange colour, akin to an oil slick. Guilt. The pyromancer looked down at her hands with trepidation before clearing her throat and flitting her eyes over to Charlotte.

"How does it work? Like, do you see everybody who's ever died, or?" at the question, Charlotte's expression shifted, as did her aura. It shrunk down, almost wrapping around her like a protective blanket. Mary had never seen anything like it.

"Generally, the more traumatic their death was, the more likely they've stuck around. It isn't always like that, though. Sometimes people stay to watch over someone. Like a guardian angel, I guess. Other times," Charlotte looks over at Pepper – at something that's next to her left shoulder, that only Charlotte can see- "they just try to make people's lives miserable. And before anyone asks, literally everyone in this room has at least on spirit with them. Even you, Miss Maribelle Sandeman." Mary startled, because the only person in the room who knew her full name was Grant. It was policy that the Guide's identities be kept secret for safety reasons. After all, rehabilitation didn't always work, and if a patient with a particularly volatile ND decided the Guide was the cause of their problems...well.

Mary clapped her hands and took to her feet, ignoring the concerned glance Grant sent her way. She shuffled over to the door and opened it, a tight grin plastered on her face. "We'll call that session done today, ladies and gents. Next week we'll begin working on the causes of your NDs and how we can create a training scheme to help control them. If you'd all like to follow officer Martin out, he'll take you back to the residential area."

The group, puzzled by the abrupt ending, rose from their seats and shuffled out. Mary shut the door behind them and took a steadying breath before turning around. She wasn't surprised to see Charlotte still in her seat looking decidedly uncomfortable. A tense silence hung in the air for two seemingly endless moments.

"I didn't mean to scare you," she finally mumbled, "it was an accident. The ghost with you didn't tell me not to say your name, so I just...assumed it would be fine if I did. He's been glaring at me since I said it. Quit it." The last part was almost hissed, aimed at the empty space of Grant's chair. Charlotte's cloudy blue eyes lit up with something inside, and she clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"Who is it?" Mary asked, so thrown by the events of the day and this mysterious young woman that she found herself unable to think of anything else to say. Charlotte's still glowing eyes looked between the Guide and the chair, and her shoulders sagged. She raised her hands and slowly, inexpertly, signed the letters _E-L-I-A-S_. "Impossible." Mary eventually said, folding her arms in disbelief.

"He's signing too quickly for me to understand – don't look at me like that, mate, I'm not used to talking to mute ghosts," she said to the air. "Bracelets? You want me to -? If she cries, on your head be it."

Charlotte removed the strange metallic bangles encasing her wrists quickly, opening several catches and pressing a series of barely visible indents. Mary raised an eyebrow at the things when they released themselves from Charlotte's arms and landed neatly on the ground; there was circuitry visible, blue and green lights pulsing inside. The Guide was so distracted by the strange technology that she didn't notice the figure sidling up beside her until it grazed her elbow – a translucent man wearing a pair of boardshorts and a shark necklace. Mary screamed and jumped sideways. The figure laughed silently as his form turned more opaque.

"Elias?" Mary muttered aloud to herself. The man, now almost fully visible as a tanned, well-built male with hair the same colour as Mary's own platinum blonde nodded and signed succinctly;

_Hi, little sister. Can't stay long. Makes her sick, and me less pretty._ At this, Elias' form shifted, revealing a large, grisly open wound on his neck and shoulder. On the other side of the room, Charlotte took in a deep breath, looking paler by the second.

"This is insane." Mary said to her long-since-dead older brother, who simply grinned in response. Charlotte groaned and the ghostly man, realising time was short, drew Mary in for a hug. The blonde woman shivered at the feeling of it. He retreated a few steps, far away enough for Mary to see his final message before he vanished from sight.

_Love you. Always here._

The Guide stared silently at the place her brother's ghost stood – was still standing, she assumed – and tried to open her mouth. No words came out, but a single tear slipped down her face and onto the floor. Charlotte had begun replacing the bracelets on her wrists the moment Elias had faded, and the colour returned to her face shortly after the final buckle was fastened. As she stood, looked over at where Elias was and nodded once, a sad smile forming. When Charlotte shoved her hands in her hoodie's pockets and started to walk out of the room, Mary reached over and grabbed her arm. The younger woman paused.

"Thank you for that." Mary finally managed, still in shock. Charlotte shrugged, the movement dislodging Mary's loose grip. An odd feeling went through Mary's hand, akin to a static shock; her hand went numb. The Guide frowned internally but tried to ignore it, clenching and unclenching a fist to restore feeling in her hand. "I realise that part of your ability must not be entirely pleasant. You didn't need to."

Charlotte continued on her path, shrugging again. "Lots of people have ghosts. You're one of the lucky ones with a benevolent one looking out for you. Figured you'd like to see him." With that, the young medium disappeared into the corridor, heading in the direction of the dorms. As she left, the strange numbness in her hand vanished. Mary watched the direction Charlotte had gone, a frown wide on her lips.

Two hours later, Mary slammed a thin manila file on her supervisor's desk. The name on top was Charlotte's. Her supervisor, a severe, grey haired man named Stanley Moran, picked it up with a vague look of contempt. "Who is she?" Mary demanded, "and why is she in the D-Block of rehab?"

"Well as I'm sure you're aware Miss Sandeman, her name is Charlotte Yumoto, and she can see the spirits of the deceased." Moran said dryly, placing the file back on his desk. Mary drummed her fingers on the wood, sucking her teeth in. With a small amount of effort, she projected her own aura outwards – crimson red. Even someone without an empathy ND (or any ND at all, in Moran's case) could understand what the colour meant. Anger. Borderline fury. Moran barely flinched in his seat, but the flare of cowardly yellow on his aura was all Mary needed to see.

"I've read her file, Stanley. What I can read of it, anyway. Half of it is redacted. She's only twenty, for Christ sakes, and the only crime on her file is a caution for shoplifting that got overturned! She does not need to be in the same room as someone like that Corsair woman, who is literally a convicted serial arsonist." Mary seethed. Moran drew in a deep breath, looking the peeved woman in front of him up and down before pushing his chair backwards and around. He opened on of the many filing cabinets behind him, plucked a file from it, turned and placed it atop Charlotte's file. The name of it was written in kanji, with a 'top secret' stamp below it.

"Take your time to read this, Mary. You cannot remove it from this room, but feel free to remain here whilst you look at it. You'll find it to be an interesting case." Moran grumbled. Mary raised an eyebrow at his suddenly agreeable nature but took the file and slumped into a nearby chair to read. As she did, her mouth opened involuntarily, in shock. As she reached the last page, she glanced up at Moran over the top of the file and narrowed her eyes.

"This is all true?" she asked. Moran nodded. "And the officers here have no idea?" Another nod.

"Charlotte's situation is complicated, to say the least. Her Near-Death Experience was unique, as you can see. And because Psychopomp is, as far as the government is aware, a totally singular ability..." he began. Mary lowered the file and rubbed her temple, feeling a migraine coming on. "I had the same reaction when I was given Miss Yumoto's case file." Moran finished, eyeing his employee with a look of amusement.

Mary sighed through her nose. "I'm not a fan of exploiting her ability like this, Stanley. But if she's the only hope we have of positively identifying that monster, I'll help out however I can." The man opposite her nodded in appreciation. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small black PDA. He tapped on the screen a few times before passing it over to the Guide.

"I was planning on informing you of Charlotte's situation in a briefing tomorrow, but now you're already aware, we can move onto introducing you to the other parties involved in the operation. We use these communicators to arrange meetings and the like. Encrypted for extra security." At Mary's startled expression, the man shrugged. "Charlotte needs as many people on her side as possible. I can think of nobody better than you, Mary."

The empath took the PDA gingerly. It didn't appear to be anything special – Mary and the other Guides were given a similar one when they started training, in the event of an ND user needing to be brought in with the assistance of a Guide. She tucked the device into her blouse pocket and turned on her heel. Before she reached the door, however, she paused, having remembered her interaction with her very dead brother not even an hour before.

"Stanley," she began, but the older man cut her off.

"Did she show you a ghost? It's not...easy. To see them. She showed me mine, too. A young man I assisted when I first started out with the ND Bureau. It'll take time, but we'll get used to it. So will she, hopefully."

Mary nodded, leaving the room. As she exited the rehab building, she reached up to feel the black PDA tucked inside her pocket. There was something stirring in the air, and she could feel it. As she rounded the corner, she swore she felt something like a hand pushing her backwards, and for whatever reason, the Guide obeyed it and took a step back into the relative darkness of the building's shadow. The feeling remained on her chest, not hard, just to keep her still. Not even a second later, she could see the edges of an immense aura as it emerged from an alley a few feet away. Mary swallowed a breath and watched as it danced in her peripheral vision, spindly and dark. It reminded her, vaguely, of a spider. It was a colour Mary had only witnessed a few times in her life; one that had accompanied mass murderers and psychopaths. Deep red. The colour of dried blood.

The Guide stood as still as she could for what felt like an hour. Eventually, the aura vanished from her vision and the ghostly (and Mary was sure that's what it was) hand from before released its pressure, dispersing into the night. Hands shaking, Mary reached into her satchel and retrieved her mobile phone, preparing to dial 911. She tiptoed into the alley and recoiled when the smell of iron hit her. She turned the flashlight on her phone on, and very nearly dropped it her eyes fell upon the scene before her.

In a pool of his own blood, still wearing his uniform from earlier, was Grant. His eyes had been gouged out and his mouth was open in a bloody scream. His tongue was nowhere to be seen in the bloody mess that was the remnants of his face. Mary backed out of the alley, collapsing onto the floor. Shaking, she dialled and lifted her phone to her ear, staring blankly into the middle distance. The city was still awake, despite the late hour. For some reason the idea made Mary's stomach turn and she squeezed her eyes shut as the call was answered.

"Union City PD, how can we help this evening?" a chirpy voice answered. Distantly, Mary recalled the person who the voice belonged to was named Jessica. "Hello?"

Mary, eyes still closed, shook her head and took a deep breath. "Sorry. My name is Maribelle Sandeman, I'm a Guide at the ND Rehabilitation centre. I'm there now." she manged to say, her voice trembling. "I'm calling to report the murder of Officer Grant Martin."

A squad car appeared not five minutes later, followed by a crime scene investigation van. Mary had managed to collect herself and had moved away from the alleyway entrance, keeping her eyes pointedly away from it. One of the officers wandered into the alley with the investigators and choked. The other came directly over to Mary, pulling out a notepad as he did.

"Evening, Miss Sandeman. This has obviously been a stressful few minutes for you, but I'm going to need you to answer some questions, okay?" he asked. Mary didn't even look up from her shoes. She nodded silently. "Alright. You were the first on the scene of the crime other than the suspect, correct? Did you happen to see them?"

Mary shook her head. "No, officer. My ND lets me see the aura of others, though. I don't think this is his first murder." The words were rolling out of her mouth without her really wanting them to. "I didn't see all of it, but it was large. Most people's auras tend to only be a few inches bigger than themselves. His covered the entire courtyard."

The officer nodded, jotting down what she'd said. "You think the suspect is a male? Is that an aspect of your ND?" Mary looked up from her shoes, lips pursed. She nodded. For the first time, she noticed the officer's aura – bright blue, but it seemed as though it was being held back. She distantly wondered if he was doing it subconsciously, as a way of calming her down. It was working.

The second officer emerged from the alley, her aura and face the same colour – tinged yellow, as if she was struggling to not be sick. "It's Grant, Luke. Fucking Christ." as she spoke, the yellow turned a solemn green tone; a combination of disgust and sadness. Mary had seen the combination enough times to recognise it. The first officer, Luke, looked over at his partner with concern before his gaze fell back on Mary.

"We'll let you go home for tonight, Miss Sandeman. My partner and I will escort you – we don't know if the suspect was aware of your presence and is tracking you. We'll get an officer assigned to you as a guard for the next few days as a precaution." he said.

The ride to Mary's apartment in downtown Union City was silent. The female officer kept glancing back at Mary with concern, but the blonde woman simply stared out the window, trying diligently to not look at the shade of the two police officer's auras. Eventually they arrived at her duplex, and were greeted by a stocky male officer. He nodded his head in greeting, and Mary's escorts bid her farewell before driving back in the direction they'd came from.

Mary couldn't sleep that night. Every time she closed her eyes, Grant's lifeless, eyeless corpse stared back at her, pleading for help. After an hour of tossing and turning the Guide slumped into her living room with a gallon of ice cream and a glass of whiskey. She turned the TV on and began what would be only the first of her sleepless nights to come.


End file.
